


Ghosted

by sugardumbfairy



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon divergent from ½ into s3, Character Turned Into a Ghost, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugardumbfairy/pseuds/sugardumbfairy
Summary: Jane dies in a freak accident and is stuck as a ghost in the Marbella.
Relationships: Petra Solano/Jane Villanueva
Kudos: 7





	Ghosted

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews for _Ghosted_ : 
> 
> "What is wrong with you? Why would you write that?" - my wife 
> 
> "Your obsession with ghost fic has gotten out of hand" -my beta 
> 
> "Haven't they been through enough???"- also my beta

When Jane Villanueva was 26 years, eleven months, and 12 days old, she had the worst day of her life. 

Jane ran through the halls of the Marbella looking for Scott. In her hand, she clutched his most recent memo about reduced wages. In her hurry, she did not see the floor buffer in the foyer until it was too late. Her impractical flamingo heels slid across the smooth marble and in one second she went from full sprint to face planted on the hotel’s floor. 

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” 

If this was a normal day, Jane would have been okay after a simple slip. But alas, it was not a normal day. It was the worst day of Jane Villanueva’s life. 

“Call an ambulance!” 

Tragically, it was also her last. But she didn’t know that yet. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jane said, scrambling to get up. Her head was pounding, and her ears were ringing, but she was able to right herself after holding on blindly to a guest for a few seconds and then puking on their shoes. She managed to apologize before stumbling away. Petra caught up to her shortly after, and after berating her for damaging the hotel’s reputation with her “clumsiness and vomit,” asked her if she was okay. 

“I’m fine,” Jane said, adjusting the ice pack on her head. “My head is a little sore, but nothing to worry about. It was more embarrassing than anything.” 

“You’re telling me,” Rafael said, coming in with the kids in tow. “They’re still talking about it downstairs.” 

Jane groaned. “You heard about it too?” 

“Mommy, did you really throw up on people?” 

Jane blinked at Mateo. “Well, not exactly-” 

“That’s awesome!” 

Jane sighed and ignored Petra’s grimace. “Alright, Mr. Sweetface, we’ve got to get a move on. It’s almost bedtime.” She turned towards Raf. “Let me just go grab my coat from the lockers and we’ll be good to go.” 

“Sounds good,” Rafael said, his eyes on Petra. The girls had already situated themselves on one of the couches with their iPads, and Mateo joined them, which is lucky because he did not witness what happened next. 

Jane barely made it out of the door of Petra’s suite before collapsing. Hearing the thud, Rafael and Petra’s eyes met for a moment before they both dashed out to the hall. Jane was unconscious for the last few minutes of her life, and thus was unaware of the horror of those moments. As the narrator of this story, I, too, will skip past as much of those moments as possible, for although Jane’s life might have come to an end, our story is just now beginning. 

_________________________________

It takes Jane a little while to realize something is wrong. She has a vague sense that she has been in the Marbella for some time, but that is not all that unusual. Between her job and visiting Petra, it is rare that a day goes by without her stepping foot into the hotel. But then guests ignore her when she greets them. The staff look subdued and when she moves closer to a group of servers to see what the gossip is, one walks right through her. It’s about that time, that Jane realizes okay, something definitely isn’t right. 

“- _ died _ . Can you believe it?” 

“Girl, that is not how I’d want to go. Especially _ here. _ There’s been so many dead bodies here, I’d be surprised if the place wasn’t haunted. 

“Poor Jane. She had a kid, too.” 

Wait, what did she mean? Jane  _ has _ a kid. Present tense. Unless- 

“Mateo,” Jane gasps and runs. She can’t quite remember what time Rafael had him until, but it was an easy bet that he would be up with the twins as well. Three paces outside of Petra’s french doors, it hit her and she collapsed. 

“Oh my god,” she said. “I’m dead.” 

Despite being dead, tears came easily. She cries watching Rafael carefully trying to break the news to their son. She cries when she realizes that she can’t step foot outside the Marbella, can’t go to her mom and abuela. 

She cried again when Xiomara showed up at the Marbella, angry and raging at Rafael until she broke down herself. “She’s gone,” Xo cried. “My baby’s gone.” 

Jane kneels in front of her mother, trying to hold her face, trying to get her attention. “I’m right here, mom, I’m right here,” Jane says. As usual, there is no sign of acknowledgement. Jane attempts to lay her head in her mom’s lap and cries. 

A second, unexpected layer of grief hits her when she realizes that she can no longer write out her infamous lists. She can no longer write the draft of her next novel. There will no longer be a next novel. There is no more writing, period. 

Jane tries and fails to help Mateo through his tantrums, his frustration at his homework, his loneliness when he sees his sisters’ closeness. She sees the pain on all of their faces, all the people she loved most. 

A third and final wave of grief happens as Jane watches her family slowly start to move on without her, just as she learned to move on without Michael. 

_________________________________

As Jane no longer aged in the traditional sense, she stopped counting the days since her birth and started counting the days since her death. So, three years to the day that Jane died in a freak accident, there was another tragic death at the hotel. 

Jeeze, after so many deaths, you would think that people would stay away. On the other hand, who could have predicted that Pammy the Parrot would run over Petra with a golf cart? 

Jane followed the sound of commotion across the hotel. There wasn’t much else for her to do during the day. Petra stood, perfectly poised on her long legs, glaring down at her body. 

“Petra?” 

“The _ parrot?  _ Really, all this time I was convinced my mother, or-or Milos would be my downfall, and it was the stupid parrot?” Petra threw her arms up. 

“ _ Petra? _ ” Jane repeated, the name choking her.

“Not now, Jane, I-” Petra turned towards her, turning even paler. “Oh god. I’m dreaming. I’m in a coma or something.” 

If Petra could see her, did that mean…? 

Jane blinked back tears and slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so.” 

“Just great. I’ve got a meeting with investors in an hour., and I’m here, probably dead.” They both watched as the paramedics that had been rushed into the hotel placed a sheet over Petra’s body. “Definitely dead, then. Wait, have you been here this whole time?” 

“Oh, Petra, I’m so sorry-” 

“Spare me the eulogy, Jane. Just give it to me straight. Are you real? Am I stuck here?” 

“I-I don’t really know where to start,” Jane stuttered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk to someone who can hear me. I’ve been tied to the Marbella since I died. I haven’t been able to … you know,” she gestured upwards, “pass on. I’ve been stuck here.” 

Petra breathed out slowly. “Perfect,” she muttered. Jane was never very good at hiding her judgement from others, and it seems like spending three years without having to worry about offending anyone hasn’t done her any favors. 

“What?” Petra snapped. “I’ve been dead for like three seconds. Can’t you hold off on the judgement?” But that was exactly the issue. Jane knows that everyone processes things differently, but Petra was being a little blase about finding that she is forever separated from the living world and its inhabitants. Which reminds her… 

"Wait," Jane said. "Why can I see you? I haven't seen anyone. Not even Michael." 

Petra looked at her, jaw tight and pursed her lips. "I'd guess that having a front row seat to my death has something to do with it, although I’m rather new to this whole being dead thing. Thanks for the help, by the way." 

"I'm not exactly corporal," Jane snapped. "Do you think if I could have, I would stand by while you were murdered? Or while that _ floozy _ steals my book before I've been dead for a month.? Or-or," her voice broke, "while Mateo is asking where his mommy is?"

Petra rolled her eyes and awkwardly wrapped her long arms around Jane. "There there," she said dryly, and Jane is so grateful to finally feel skin-to-skin (or ghost-to-ghost) contact that she ignores Petra's tone. "How is it that  _ I'm _ the one that just died, and I'm the one comforting you?" Petra said. 

"Well... You were always kind of dead on the inside anyway,” Jane sniffled. 

Petra shrugged, and the gesture pulled Jane further into her. "True." 

_________________________________

Having a ghostly roommate turned out to be an adjustment. Jane would have never said that Petra censored herself, but now she kept a running commentary that is even more unrelenting and ruthless than when she was alive. 

“Oh, who am I worried about offending now? You?” Petra scoffed. “You get offended by everything I do anyway.” Despite her cool demeanor, over time Jane does see Petra’s signs of stress begin to peak through. 

They watched as Anezka and Madga plotted their way around the hotel. Petra surveyed them with a calculating expression, arms tucked tightly around her sides, and then Jane understood she was scared. She was scared that her mother and sister would steal the one thing that Petra had been confident in her ability to provide to her girls: The Marbella. And in fact, she had done one better. Rafael was the beneficiary of her shares of the hotel, and with his repaired relationship with Luisa, he was free to move into the hotel with Mateo. 

The first night after Rafael tucked all three of the kids in, he sat on his bed and cried. Jane cried too and smoothed her hands over Raf’s hair and face. He, of course, felt nothing. She staid with him until he passed out, curled on his side and oozing loneliness, grief, and fear. A million times she has wished that she could communicate with her family, but never has she wished for it so hard. She wishes that she could tell him what an amazing father he is, how lucky Mateo and the girls are to have him, that he is doing a great job with all of them. 

Unable to sit in Rafael’s or her own grief any longer, she went looking for Petra. It didn’t take her long to find her. She was in the girls’ room, sitting on Anna’s bed. She ran her hand over her daughter’s hair much like Jane did with Rafael’s. “You know,” Petra whispered, as though she would wake the twins if she talked at full volume, “I was so worried about being a good parent. I didn’t want any other parents- especially you- to look at me and think that I was doing a bad job.” She looked at Jane and it was the first time Jane has seen her tear up since she died. “But now I just wish that I was there at all.” 

Jane held her hand. 

_____________________________________

In the wake of Petra’s death, it seemed the Sunday brunch torch had been passed on. Rafael and the kids joined Xo and Ro and Alba and Jorge for brunch every week. Jane cried every time because she wished she could see them, but brunch was typically held at her abuela’s. Out of her ghostly reach. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?” Petra said. “Just watching everyone else go about their lives and cry?” 

“What else am I supposed to do? Leave my family? Clearly it was not my time, or else I wouldn’t have stayed as a ghost.” 

“Or maybe you’re just afraid to let go.” 

“You’re here too, so what are you afraid to let go of?” Jane said smugly. 

“I’m working on it,” Petra said, raising an eyebrow, but she said no more on the matter. 

_________________________________

Time passed, although it didn’t really feel that way for Jane. Before she knew it, the kids were graduating elementary school. There was a party at the Marbella in Raf’s suite. The whole family was there, cheering for the kids. Rafael carried Mateo on his shoulders although he was way too big, and the twins clung on to him like monkeys. 

“Middle schoolers in the houuuuuuse,” he yelled, and it was so goofy and so perfect, and Jane was laughing and this was the first time that she could see what she was missing and not burst into tears. Because, despite it all, they were doing it. Her family was going strong, and while there were clear craters where she and Petra belonged, this family was stubborn. They would not break. 

Jane had always been a romantic. Perhaps that is why she got caught up in the moment of celebration and kissed Petra. She leaned back to see her reaction. Petra’s blue eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock. “Sorry,” Jane says. “Just a kiss between fri-” Petra kisses her this time, and it’s clear that she has no plans of stopping there. 

Jane spared another look at the party around her before she followed Petra’s lead into one of the empty suites next door. Afterwards, curled around each other, Jane asked her, “What's keeping you here?” But she already knew the answer, and Petra knew this, so she just kissed her on the shoulder. 

Jane drifted to sleep (or the closest approximation of it) for the first time since her untimely demise. When she woke up, Petra was gone. Jane slipped back to Raf’s suite, and found the party had come to an end. It was dark, with only the lights from the city shining in the penthouse windows to illuminate Mateo’s sleeping form. 

She brushed a hand gently across his face, and his eyes flickered open. 

“Mommy?” He breathed, still half asleep. 

Her breath caught in her throat, and all the words that she had saved for him over the years clogged in her throat, so what came out was, “Hi, Mr. Sweetface.” 

He gave her a sleepy smile, pressing his face into her palm. “I miss you,” he said. 

“I miss you too,” she said, and she was crying again. And smiling too. “I want you to know that I love you sooo much. And I’m so proud of you.” His eyes slid shut, already returning to sleep, face still pressed into her while she continued to tell him everything she had been wanting to say. 

She stroked his hair one last time. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Mateo didn’t deserve to be without her. But, somehow, he would be okay. He would wake up in the morning, not really sure if seeing his mom was real or just a dream. But the vision of seeing his mother one last time would stick with him forever, and just before he fell asleep each night, he would feel certain that it had been real. 

And for the record, I still do. 


End file.
